Posted in art, poetry, writing

Anything

Anything Driving in a car and it's raining. I touch all the buttons on the radio anything but talking only commercials, radio shows, white noise of Saturday mornings when you didn't quite force the body to sleep long enough. We're going to walk the mall, anything to leave the house and stir the blood, to move the mind out of the place where thinking's bad too much, too fast that it sounds like static.

I’ve eaten nothing but cookies for the past five days. That’s what happens when you make them on Christmas Eve and double the recipe because your mom told you to and end up with a full box of leftovers because you made too many cookies. I think I’ll go for a run today.

I wanted to post this poem yesterday. I’d set my intention the night before: I will write a poem on Saturday morning. But somehow I slept in and before I knew it I was out of the house, starting my day, and I’d forgotten about poetry completely. It’s a rare occurrence–me forgetting about poetry–but I’d like to think there’s some meaning behind it.

Happy Sunday!

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Overlooked

Overlooked  I wore a pearl necklace to feel pretty. I wanted the attention, for the guy making my latte to look twice, for my coworker to shoot me a jealous glare, for a young girl to see me with envy gleaming in her eyes and think someday I want to be her.   I wanted to taste affection’s dessert, the outpouring of desire in salivating mouths, to be the chocolate mousse that causes moans, irresistible.   But all they saw was the necklace.  I like your necklace.  What a gorgeous necklace.  They saw the chocolate shavings decorating the mousse, snacked on the garnish like kids sneaking a finger full of icing from the cake.  They saw pearls on a mannequin and finished their window shopping with a cookie from the food court.